


The color of your soul

by Saskiel



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Fluff, very mild smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-07 22:11:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19858822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saskiel/pseuds/Saskiel
Summary: After Emet-Selch saves the day in Rak'Tika, you have a particular question for him. But the answer will cost you.





	The color of your soul

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I need more Emet in my life. Please comment if you agree :D

Emet-Selch. The bane of your existence as of late. But not because he is spinning his evil treads, ruining your own plans with the light wardens. Oh no, that, you can deal with. That is what ascians do, right?

Well, not this particular ascian. First, he decides to offer the scions an olive branch, saying he merely wants to observe, maybe even help. Then, he shamelessly teases you whenever he gets the chance. It’s dear this and dear that. Truly infuriating man.

With really good looks.

And a very pleasant voice.

But you’d, obviously, deny any of this in front of your friends, Thancred especially. After all, you can’t imagine they would take it well if you fraternized with the enemy. Or even think about the way his pale eyes light up with mischief whenever he calls you a _hero_ as if it is some sort of private joke between the two of you. Maybe it is.

**

You are standing with the rest, watching Emet-Selch bring Y’Shtola back. You get the feeling he is enjoying the attention, his back is not hunched, for a change, as he raises his hand and snaps for the final time, lowering the woman’s body to the floor.

As you follow after Thancred, who literally bolts towards your friend, you make brief eye contact with the ascian. There’s a smirk on his face as he steps out of your way.

You are happy about the reunion, truly, Y’shtola would be greatly missed by many, but all your senses are on high alert with the man standing somewhere behind you. Were you braver, you would turn around, but every hero has their weak points. It would seem Emet-Selch might be yours, given how your heartbeat quickens when he makes his presence known once again, demanding a thank you. Even then you don’t face him, merely letting your comrades express their gratitude before they leave back to the nearby settlement.

“You are not going to join them, hero?” his voice sounds closer than you expected, sending pleasant shivers down your arms.

Slowly, you turn around, gazing into his eyes and he raises his eyebrow expectantly. Just when he takes a deep breath, no doubt to address you with some snark comment, you blurt out the first thing that comes to your mind.

“What color is my soul?”

You watch as his expression change. Before, he was mildly annoyed, but now his look is downright predatory.

“Isn’t that a clever question,” he moves slowly towards you, “what will you offer me for the answer?”

On a reflex, your feet start moving, putting you out of his reach. There might be a truce between you now, but he is still a being of immeasurable power. The intensity that he’s displaying makes you gulp. “I shouldn’t have to give you anything for it, let it be a nice gesture on your part,” you try to bargain, but even to you, it sounds weak.

“I believe my daily quota for nice gestures has been exhausted by me plucking your clumsy friend out of the lifestream. You will have to offer me something better,” with a wolfish smile, he forces you deeper into the forest.

“I doubt there is anything that you could want from me,” the end of your sentence sounds more like a question.

Who are you asking, him or yourself?

Fanow, the Viera city is no longer in your view as your back bump into an enormous tree, judging by your peripheral vision.

“No need to be so harsh on yourself, dear. Of course there is something I want from you… The question is, are you willing to offer it to me?”

He stops right in front of you - if you took a deep breath, your chest would touch his. If that thought wasn’t distracting enough, he _purrs_ out your name. For a man who spends eons plotting the rejoining, he can be oddly impatient.

Licking your lips, you stare somewhere below his nose, not able to bring yourself to see his eyes. He’s never been this close. Your heart is beating fast, from fear or excitement, you don't know. Are you really going to do this?

“You are maddening,” you say as you finally raise your gaze to his.

“Is that a yes, my sweet hero?”

Slowly, you nod.

**

You did not think his smile could be bigger, yet after you give your consent, he looks like the cat that ate the canary.

He closes the small gap. A barely audible moan escapes you as his body crushes yours into the bark of the tree. He hums appreciatively at the way you fit against him. Right after that, his lips find yours, his hands roaming freely over your bare arms as he kisses you passionately. Your own arms circle around his body, your fingers lightly pressing into the muscles on his back, pulling him even closer.

“I’ve missed this,” he breaks the kiss for the moment, inspecting your face. But before you have time to think about his words, he lifts you from the floor, forcing you to hook your legs around him. He captures your lips once again and you wonder how you managed to resist him this long. You can feel his hardening member pressing through his pants, which makes you grip him closer as you arch your back slightly, increasing the delicious friction.

He groans as he bites your neck, it feels like a warning.

Deciding to test your theory, you rub yourself against him. You can feel his body shiver, his hands gripping your thighs almost painfully. “If you continue, I _will_ have to ravish you,” he says, voice thicker than dripping honey. It’s exquisite feeling, holding this powerful man in the palm of your hand.

“Who says that’s not precisely what I want.”

His pale eyes glance at yours as if he was looking for any sign of uncertainty. You give him a coy smile before planting a gentle kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Close your eyes,” he says, snapping his fingers when you do as he asks. You feel the teleportation magic take place, but Emet-Selch is holding you close, ensuring that you don’t slip into the oblivion. When you next open your eyes, the forest of Rak’Tika is no longer there.

Where you might be, you don’t know. Everything here seems to be enveloped in shades of blue. Before you can look around more, you are placed on a comfortable bed, with one hungry ascian landing on top of you. He immediately starts kissing you again, his hands slip into your hair. You respond with equal passion, enjoying every moment. Your hands reach out for the hem of his robe and with his help, you pry it off.

Together, you manage to get rid of both your clothes, before you give in. Everything feels just right. His weight, pressing you into the sheets, the way he nibbles at your neck while you scratch your fingernails down his back, loving the feel of your joined bodies. You scream out his name as the pleasure dips you over the edge and he kisses you harder for it, following your suit soon after.

**

Later that night, after you’re both too exhausted to continue your lovemaking, you are falling asleep. His fingers are gently combing through your hair as he watches you closely. Curled against his side, you feel secure, his body heat making you relaxed. Slowly, your breathing levels out as you drift off. Even after that happens, he doesn’t stop caressing you, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Your soul is the lightest color of topaz. When you are upset, it darkens into a rich amber. But whenever you are happy, it _always_ shined like liquid light,” he smiles as you shift in your sleep, “I’m glad I got to see it again tonight…”


End file.
